Untamed and Passionate
by Moonlight151
Summary: I've always been said violence is never the answer. But how am I supposed to live in a world full of problems when I have a bloodthirsty beast lurking beneath the surface; ready to act on any emotion I may feel.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One _

_I was the hunter and he was my prey._

I knew him, it was in his personality to never back away from a fight, especially one with me. Ethan was strong and he would do only what he believed was right, and running away was not it.

W_e both knew this, and yet he refused to play his part in this game we called survival. He dared to stand tall as if I were as dangerous as a de-clawed kitten and it filled me with rage when all he did was open his mouth and say a few words._

A violent hatred nearly choked me. How dare he try and talk to me with words I could care less about. The language he was using was odd, but it made sense. Broken, blind, candid and caged. Unnaturally crippled, like an avian unwilling to fly. Noise like this held no appeal when compared to any of the sounds I'd used, yet the man before me still managed to find fluidity and expression. Simple, plain, and yet it held beauty.

_I took a step forward, waiting for the blonde before me to finally comprehend the situation and take a step back but it never happened. With each step I took forward, my frustration grew due to his stillness. He stood there as if he was a deer in the headlights, but his expression was not one of fear. It wasn't until I'd lunged, my left forepaw striking him across his chest, and he landed flat on his back did the air begin to reek of fear. Leaping atop him I felt his breath explode from his lungs with a small yelp, and I lifted my head searching for the pungent smell of fear. _

_I found it immediately._

I knew straight away that while this smell was pleasing it was bad. A very bad smell when it was coming from someone I cared dearly for. I should have been preventing the smell, not inducing it.

_Like all prey, he began to squirm beneath me, unaware of how futile it was while pinned beneath my larger, much more powerful frame, and my ears flattened themselves against my skull as I hissed; revealing three and a half inch fangs. Indigo eyes went wide with panic, and the scent of fear increased dramatically … filling me with something I could only describe as carnal aggression. It was intoxicating, it was irresistible, and before I knew it I reared back, claws extended, and swatted him across the throat._

Fear forced my heart to loge itself permanently into my throat, and that was all that kept me from screaming. But I could not stop the keening noise I was making as the motion of my fingers- no my claws- tore through the flesh. He was going to die now and I was to blame. His flesh was butter and my hands were heated knives.

_Blood poured from his neck, like water from an open faucet, and I watched fascinated as crimson spilled only to be absorbed by thirsty soil. He gurgled as his eyes widened further and distracted me from the magnificent sight of draining fluids. They stared up into mine, and fascination shifted to dread when he blew a silvery breathe into my face. _

He had just sedated me. Something I had witnessed him do several times while horse back riding to calm the stallions whom decided to be wild, but I'd simply assumed the mist to be his breath in the cold winter air; though in a way it was. But I was angry, so angry that heat shot through my veins, causing me to feel as if my blood was boiling. Why hadn't he don't this sooner. If Ethan could have done this at anytime why was it only now he had done it.

_Instinctively I inhaled the sickeningly sweet mist, scrambling off and away from him as I sneezed; I turned back toward him, my face twisting into a vicious snarl. Now I would finish him off and leave his corpse to rot. His death would benefit none! _

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, or even weeks since he had deliberately tranquilized me with his sugary breathe. But now I could actually feel the sedation wearing off as clarity took its place and I continued to watch seething silently as my best friend died by my hands.

_With furious eyes I fought the paralysis and took unsteady steps toward her, my tail lashing through the air., with an audible whip. With each step I could feel less and less of myself as the paralyzing cloud spread through my body; I collapsed. _

It was as if my memory triggered a sudden relapse in my condition and I felt my limbs lock down again. It wasn't that I was falling back into that forced state of calmness but I was bracing myself for the rest of the memory.

_I glared at the man-child before me and watched with grim satisfaction as crimson still escaping his wound began to pool around hiss form because of soil so bloated with blood it could not be absorbed. He gurgled again and I met his eyes which were twinkling. His face was covered in sweat of our past run and blood from various scrapes but despite the fatal wound I had inflicted, his expression became an eager grin; his glowing navy blue eyes dimming over deep circles. The gleeful stare never faltered, and I watched as her form crumpled into ash._

I could feel the control of my body come back to me in increments now that my recollection was coming to an end. Increments that followed a fading image of his face smeared with blood, a violent, macabre sight but that dashing smile adorning his pale cheeks. My own uncontrolled boiling anger and snarling face. A low whine was the only sound that gave away my consciousness, but even then I could have still been dreaming, trapped in an echo of the unfamiliar rage in my memory, and reacting to the unknown.

I couldn't be sure whether the regal voice was spoken aloud or echoed in my head, but it rang loud and pierced through the last strands of the dream allowing me to take a bit more control of my thoughts.. "Mercedes. You need to come back."

The voice was familiar, and it at the same time it wasn't… Who was calling to me?

"Mercedes" a gruff voice said. I didn't recognize this one.

Something brushed my face, light as air and I knew that scent. It was the similar to the one in my memory. I took a deeper breath just to be certain and my mind suddenly cleared and I could see the light behind my eyelids.

"Mercedes." the same gruff voice grunted, and my eyelids felt heavy and I searched for the muscles that would open them. I could now feel that I was lying on my side… and though the position was one of familiarity … this felt wrong. There wasn't enough of me.

Compared to how I'd felt while I dreamt.. _This_ me felt shrunken.

My hands were warmer than the rest of me, and that was because they were being held. Held in big hands, calloused hands that swallowed them right up and those warm hands release mine only to drift through the fur at the top of my skull, fur that had grown longer and shaggier. That shouldn't have been right. My fur should have been short, no longer than an inch. What had changed, how long had it been?

The voice spoke up again. "Logan, you must _contain _her. It is important that you keep her restrained!"

I hear the mechanical whir of something moving closer toward me. Something pleasant, a change in the air as the whir stopped close by me. Another scent, I thought. Something different besides the masculine scent of the man holding my hand and smell of this sterile, odorless room; of this hospital room. I force my eyes open, and the man holding my hands face is close, his eyes wary, his lips curled into a slight grimace. He can tell that I'm aware, unlike most hospital patients and I don't need time to adjust, so he opened his mouth to speak.

But before the words are able to come out I yank my hands free and shove hard against his chest, he takes a step back to regain lost footing, unprepared for the action. I sit up in the space where he just was, my legs swinging over the edge, my gaze raking the room, nostrils flaring as I searched for some sign of him — a body, a scent, that pile of dust, his clothing - something! But I found nothing.

"Mercedes?" the man with the gruff voice said, and my eyes locked onto his slow moving form. Before I can react, his hand shoots out and he grips my right wrist, and while i gain my bearings he was already reaching for my left.

"Where _is _he?" I hiss, trying to yank free while I threw myself off the other side of the bed. I wasn't dizzy but I _was_ unbalanced and _very_ uncoordinated on my feet. How long had i been on all fours? How long would it take me to adjust to being on two legs again?

He stares at me, bewildered at my ferocity, still holding onto my wrist with his arm stretched across the table. I only meet his eyes for a half second and then I'm looking frantically around the room again, angry that all I can smell is the stink of chlorine and ammonia.

I don't smell the Nautica tinted with sun flavored scent I'm looking for. It's not here and hasn't been in here for some time it seems.

But then I do find a scent that only _he_ produced, the honey lilac smell he secreted when he so desired. I smell it where my head had once rested when he had used it to knock me unconscious.

A scent that got him taken away from me only to have me brought back in an emergency, a scent that had _no _business here where he was no where to be found. There is no excuse for this. It was cruel to use his power without _him_ being around.

Were these people insane? Why did they do this when everything was just fine the way it was before? Why was it so important they goad me into attacking? Why did I have to attack him? Did they have that planned from the beginning? Was him life that much of a game? Were they playing him till the end?

Or did he think he was doing them a favor by sacrificing himself to ensure no one else was hurt by me? Was he twisting with pain? Writhing in agony while I slept in a sedated sleep? Impossible, his neck was ripped wide open. A bubble of sound built in my chest, my lips pulled back of their own accord to expose my teeth in warning.

The man circles the head of the bed, never freeing my wrist, and tried to pull me into the circle of his arm.

"Mercedes, it's okay. You're back."

I analyze him, his blue-black hair fell into intense chocolate brown eyes, and I think of how he could have survived my assault. He seemed more than sturdy enough. I then realize he still had a hold of my right hand, so instead of punching, I backhand him with my left, catching his face across the cheekbone. The force of the blow sent bolts of pain straight to the bones of my hand.

It seemed to surprise him more than it did hurt, like i had snuck up on him and he sucks in a shocked breath before jumping back, dropping my wrist. Freed now I follow through with a strong uppercut that glances off the side of his jaw as he ducks away.

I ignore the pain it gives me.

I remember telling Ethan I didn't think I could put my hands on anyone no matter how upset I became, no matter _what_. That violence wasn't the answer, that it was never the answer because it only made things worse in the long run. But right now all I wanted to do was hit this man _harder _because this was all right before I _murdered_ my best friend.

The internal protest to my fury was dialed down to a level I had not expected, the innate sense of wrong was dulled by bloodlust I wished to sate sometime ago, back, but dulled significantly and this only makes me more furious. "How could you let that happen?" I snarl at him as I swing again, missing. "What is wrong with you? How could you let me _kill_ him?"

I remember him leading me away from the group, provoking me into arguing with him, the painful shift into that stronger more powerful form, the hunt, how it felt when my claws cleaved straight to the bone in a single swipe; and I could only see them from the perspective of a predator with an unsated bloodlust. Rivers of crimson flowing into the soil and I had not even had a taste of it…

I lunge for him and some unseen pressure held me in place- and my gaze immediately locked onto a bald older man in a wheelchair- and the feral growl spilling from between my teeth shifted to an open mouthed roar and the man flinched as I broke free of his mental hold. I turn toward him my eyes wide, lips curling back to expose teeth, and my hands trembling as my fingers began to ache.

"You made me kill him!" I growl at them both, although my attention is on the seated man. "You're monsters! Both of you! Monsters!"

"Mercedes!" the bald man calls. "if you would just listen-Logan!"

I lunge for him, and Logan is immediately in my way, hands out as though he was going to try to restrain me. I pause and consider my options for just a second and am shocked when I can feel the hardness of my fingers. I twitch them, touching my palm and I can feel the claws. Some part of me realizes that I'm out of control, but I don't care to be sane. Not with Ethan dead — dead because of me — all because these people wanted to 'help me'. "Mercedes, please just "

"You couldn't leave well enough alone? I wasn't dangerous!"

I swipe at him, claws extended, but I miss. For all his bulk …Logan is fast.

I never expected him to stop trying to defend himself and go on the offense, but he does, and he leaps forward. I am already mid-lunge and I try to back peddle but as I said … Logan is fast. He grabs my wrist and maneuvers it so he is behind me and pulls my arm behind my back. I can tell he is being careful, that he doesn't want to hurt me. Rather allowing me to hurt myself if I struggle and try to escape. "Mercedes Caudwell," he growls into my ear, and I'm so shocked to hear him say my full name that I don't interrupt. "Calm down!" he orders.

"Ethan's 's here."

I turn to stare at the man in the wheelchair and feel my mouth fall open.

My eyes fall onto the tank in his lap, a glow pulsing red on top. The light reminding me of the Electrocardiogram Machine, without the actual sound of a heartbeat. Inside there are particles swirling about lazily, and they seem to be at ease.

Ethan.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter two_

There's nothing i can do to stop the outburst into tears as I continue to stare at the tank.

My best friend, the boy who I believed I had killed is alive. Right there, alive, swirling around inside a jar and I feel my finger tingle as the claws turn to the normal round, brittle and blunted nails of an average human being . I would not use those claws ever again, not to harm a loved one.

"Logan."

I can feel his eyes on me and I hear him grit his teeth before he loosens his grip on my wrist and I shake him off, stumbling away heading for Ethan. The man hands me the tank and carefully I take it into my arms and hold on tightly. I immediately begin to wonder if Ethan knows I'm holding him as his lazy swirl becomes a hurricane when I murmur an apology.

"Mercedes," the man in front of me begins. "I am Charles Xavier."

Right now I could care less, I wouln't even laugh if he had said his name was Penis Monster.

"Give me a minute," I whimper, unable to tear my gaze from the tank.

He waits silently. A rumble could be heard from behind me and I assume it's the man Logan behind me. I can _smell _his uneasiness now that I am not attacking, it's what he is good at I suppose, defending and attacking must be his strong points. But he's hesitant to leave because he doesn't know whether or not I'll become rabid again and I realize I don't want to actually hurt anyone anymore. I don't feel like killing, but with my sudden easy to rise aggression I don't know if I'll be able to help it.

I take a few deep breaths and try to come to grips with this new reality. Ethan is actually here, alive, safe, but I'm no better. I'm still a monster; I look at the man before me and tears fill my eyes and trickle down my cheeks as I stared. Before I can open my mouth to respond, I feel something -a tingling, a steady trickle from my head and he answers my unasked question.

"Ethan is fine. Right now he is just resting." He comes closer, and I hear Logan stepping closer again. I growl half-heartedly, tears still gushing down my cheeks. "As soon as he feels up to it. The Cryotank will open automatically and he will emerge from there as healthy as he was before the accident."

"Are you sure?"

"I am certain." he reassured me. "He's done it several times before."

But that does not assuage my guilt. I feel horrible and I am certain my tears will never stop. I wish that Ethan was here to comfort me, promise me that everything was okay, and then whisk me away to do things normal teenager did. Tightening my hold on the warm metal in my arms I whisper to the tank. "I'm so sorry Ethan."

For some reason, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I immediately gaze at the man whom had introduced himself as Xavier and see that he is focused on something behind me and I turn to see that Logan is gazing at me with such an intensity I can not help but be on guard.

I bristled and he lets out a grunt as he runs his fingers through his hair. "Listen I know how you feel right now. None of this 's making any sense and 's driving you crazy, but you gotta trust Doc here. He knows how to help you. Make you understand better."

I grunt, tighten my hold on the tank in an attempt to suppress my rising anger. "You have no idea what I feel." I hiss, my face heating up hotter than the fourth of July from embarrassment. He _did _know; and my grip tightened further. I hear the tank crack and the next few things happen so fast.

The tank is immediately taken out of my arms.

Logan is in front of me, crouched defensivel, his expression twisting into a scowl. The tank is suddenly floating through the air into the 'Doc's' lap who's face is a mask of concentration and wariness, and some instinct in me to defend is triggered. My nostrils flare again, but this time I'm searching for danger, and I could smell nothing out of place, nothing new. Everyone that had been the room was accounted for. Logan, Charles Xavier, Ethan, and Me. It was then I realized there never had been a scent for Ethan.

_I_ was the danger.

My eyes locked onto his Cryotank and I could see the crack, running along the length of the jar, intricate and I could really _smell_ his scent oozing out from inside. "Oh God." I whisper, horrified.

I usually had trouble opening a jar of pickles and had to beg my brother for his help. I didn't need him now. I had already proven that by mauling Ethan. I had used my newfound strength to put my best friend in the hospital. The sudden memory of the power I had already demonstrated in this form sprang forth and now I was on my way to ruining his recovery.

Trembling hands rose to my face to cover my mouth when I suddenly felt sick. Sweat began to bead my forehead as I fought to stop the churning of my stomach and I could see their expressions both shift at the same time - Logan's into one of disgusted confusion, the Doc's into one of concern. I stumbled away and searched for a the trash can, using the wall to hold myself steady as I sank to my knees. The nausea making me dizzy.

"Doc she's gonna be sick."

No matter how hard I tried, Logan's voice was impossible to concentrate on. Making things worse, knowing I had an audience as I leaned my face close into the thankfully empty bin. I didn't think smelling garbage would do anything to placate my stomach and all thought was cut off when I violently choked up my last meal. "Yes, the shock may have been too much for her." Charles murmured in thought. It sounded far away through all my heaving. A hand held my hair back. "Take her to a room and get her situated. We can talk later."

I coughed twice and shook my head.

"I want to go home." I said I as pulled myself upright using who I found out was Logan for support. Though thoroughly embarrassed for my moment of shame I turned to stare at who was watching my moment of disgrace.

"Doc has to teach you things before you can see your family." Logan said and I took one good look at him, discerning how serious he was -which was very- and turned my attention back to the bucket. Empty stomach or no, that was the last thing I needed to hear right now. But, as my stomach heaved uselessly, I realized that it was only a temporary sentence away from my family. As soon as I knew how to restrain myself without help I would be free to stay with Mother and my brother again. But they had to be worried, I had been gone for hours, maybe even days. _Oh, no! Oh, no no no no no no!_

"When?" I gasped jumping to my feet, panic and sickness stealing the volume from my voice. "When can I go? I need to see Mother."

The expession on his face, and our sudden closeness distracted me and I stared at the hands gripping his shirt so we were leveled with each other. It took a minute to realize that the hands gripping Logan's collar were mine. And the growl coming through the air was _his_ and the look of outrage on his face was more than I could handle. "Soon run- Mercedes." Logan growled, and I could tell by the way he gnashed his teeth he wanted to do more than that especially with me trying to rattle him.

I jerked my hands away and they covered my face. "I'm sorry." I cry out and watched as he his lips curled. I lower my gaze and hear him release a heavy sigh. He isn't used to such an emotionally unstable being.

"Come on kid. I'm taking you to your room." he growled, and I swallowed hard. I could taste the bile, and tried to ignore it as Logan began to walk away . I paused looking back at, the whom was now known to me as, Doctor Charles Xavier to look at Ethan. Was it me or did the swirl seem to be moving a little slower than it had been when I first saw him.

"C'mon," Logan ordered from several paces ahead.

I flinched at his tone and hurried to follow. I was sorry I'd let my attention wander. I could see how much it irritated him to have to speak to me. I walked beside him rushing to keep up with his longer stride. We walked down the hallway in silence. It wasn't until we were out in the lobby, where the afternoon sun shone against the window, that I spoke up. "Do you think I'll ever learn control? How to not hurt people? You know so I wouldn't be a monster.

"Hn, You think you're monster for something you couldn't… control." I bridled at what I took as an implied insult from his tone. I wasn't even sure how he meant to insult me, but it felt that he did. Something in me stirred resentfully but I didn't act on the urge. I didn't want to take it the wrong way.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"You feeling sorry for hurting him."

"Who?" I asked blankly. "Ethan?"

"Yeah runt."

I stopped walking, the Runt comment ignored, and he skidded to a halt beside me. We were only a few steps from the upper level and though his expression was one of impatience, I didn't care to continue our journey to where ever he was taking me. His question offended me so I repeated myself to sure he understood what it was I had asked.

"Ethan?"

"Yeah. Him."

"Of course why-?"

He cut me off before I could finish my sentence. "You feel bad when he forced you to change and made you attack."

"He didn't deserve that. He was doing what you forced him to do."

"It was his idea. We didn't force him."

I squared my shoulders, and gestured for him to continue walking. He did as I suggested and I followed behind him. "So this brutality a part of my genetics. Savagery is in my blood. Wouldn't _you _feel bad about what happened?"

"I do Runt. I wasn't in the area if I was I would've did it myself. But he got that healing factor and don't listen to orders." He said, and a growl reverberated from his throat when I opened my mouth to ask speak.

"He could've lost a lot, you know."

Abruptly he came to a standstill and I stopped short behind him. "He ain't listen. If he did things would have been easy." and before he could continue I cut in. "It's a lot to lose, don't you think?" I gestured around us. He turned, looking over his shoulder at me, and his chocolate orbs were so intense, so penetrating, I was surprised that somehow I managed to maintain eye contact.

"Look kid. If he ain't do it then you would've _tried_ to kill someone else, probably would've did it. Your mother. Your brother. His sister, Sarah. One of your classmates. Could've been the entire class. You would've got someone. He knew the risk and took the chance, just be glad that Powder-Puff ain't dead."

I opened my mouth to protest but shut it just as fast because this was Ethan we were talking about. He would do what he thought was right, regardless of what anyone said. Keeping me from people who couldn't defend themselves from my newfound volatility, from the creature in me who was so dangerous, was the right thing to do even if it put his life on the line. I clenched my jaw as my eyes adverted themselves and it then I noted that the hallway was beautiful. The cream colored walls and the rug, which was a striking crimson, made something inside me stir and I couldn't stop the urge that suddenly rose in my to hurt something. My heart sped up, and my nose flared as I inhaled sharply.

There were six heartbeats here in, excluding my own. Four were strong, not counting the man in front of me; I was pretty sure I couldn't take him down. But that other one was younger. Had faster, fluttery, weaker beats and I could-"Don't even think about it." He growled; and when understanding of his words sunk in I stared up at him in shock before embarrassment took over. "This is why you can't go home. And here's your room. Get used to it cause its yours." And with that he continued walking leaving me alone.

Standing alone in the hall for a moment, I turned to the door placing my hand on the knob. I pulled away and lifted my hand to knob on the door when I realized other people lived here and they were all super powered. I knocked but received no answer.

Grateful for the silence I opened the door and entered fumbled around for the light switch, which ended up being on the right side of the door and to say I was amazed was an understatement. The room was beautiful and twice the size of my old room, which on its own was big. And though the colors were different- my room at home being lavender and with white dressings- this room was cream with crimson, just like the rest of the house, the set up was the same. This room was set up the same way as my room back home had been put together.

My eyes immediately locked onto the bed which was a rather large king sized monstrosity, way larger than my five foot six frame would need, and I realized it would also hold the mammoth of a feline form I had if I decided to sleep that way instead; that much was obvious. I would never need a bed that big if I only this form. The television, a fifty inch hung adjacent to the bed, on the wall because I had liked sleeping on my side. And parallel to the bed was a computer. And in front of the window, a canvas was set up with the sketch I had started the night before Ethan's attack.

That was when I realized this _was _the stuff from my room.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

I don't know how longer I stood there seething, my body still locked down in anger, as thousands of thoughts flitted across my mind.

What was this?

Did Mother already know I was here?

_What_ the _hell _was going on. It was as if everyone was in on the plan _but_ me. "The paints are in the closet. You'd be surprised at the variety of colors."

After that first frozen second of shock, my instinct took over and my body responded to the voice in a way that shocked me even more.

A bubble of sound built in my chest, my lips pulled back of their own accord to expose my teeth in warning. As I spun toward the voice, the rising sound tore free from my throat. The animalistic snarl, coming from my own mouth and though it was so unexpected and surprised me, it also urged me on. I took a step toward the voice, teeth exposed in a snarl, hoping the menacing expression would force the intruder to leave.

The person, was a very pretty female, with long flaming red hair that fell down to her waist and I could see the intent and caution in her forest green eyes. She hesitated in the doorway, a few feet away, and held her arms up as if to hold me off and I froze; horrified as I realized that I was about to attack her. "It's okay Mercedes. I understand what you're going through."

With a hard jerk I straightened myself out of the defensive crouch I had begun to sink into. "I'm sorry." I began. "I didn't - It just - I -"

Her jade eyes crinkled into a smile as I continued in a fervent attempt to find an acceptable apology. "It's alright Mercedes. That's why you're here. To gain control." she said and I nodded, tucking a tendril of hair that fell in front of my face behind my ears.

She walked inside and past me.

I trailed behind her, unconsciously allowing her to settle me into my room. "Look I'm not usually like that. You just surprised me and I didn't know what to expect. I mean-" I was stopped abruptly when she laughed and twirled around to face me.

"Mercedes. I already told you. It's _okay._ Everyone needs help when they get here. I certainly did."

"How long have you been here?" I say to her and I can feel her eyes drilling into me.

"Since I was twelve."

A thin tendril of some emotion I could not place coiled around me. "A-and exactly how old are you." I and I can see a sudden bout of understanding fill her eyes as the hairs on the back of my neck rose up.

"I'm eighteen." she began slowly almost as if she were cautious to say anything, as she gauged my reaction. My eyes widened as my expression morphed into one of horror and she quickly continued speaking. "Mercedes it isn't as bad as it seems. I've seen my family throughout the years, from time to time, and we keep in contact always. I stay here because there's a lot for me to learn. For you to learn. And without him it would be so much harder so I'm grateful to have the opportunity."

"I guess it'll be a little while before I feel the way you do…" I collapse onto the bed and stare at my hands feeling a sudden need to change the subject, "So my mom is okay, right?"

"Oh, yeah!" She aid, her green eyes crinkling up into a smile, "She was told about this and she only said she knew you were always going to be amazing."

"Amazing, huh?" I whispered softly, but she heard it anyway.

"You don't believe me?" She mumbled, and I sighed.

"It's not that I don't believe you-" I really didn't. "It's just that she always nagged at me to make friends and to do that I had to be like them, you know? It was always hard because I didn't care,. I guess a part of me had always been the creature."

I glanced over at her and the look of pity on her face caused my eyes to sting as tears filled them. "I understand. . .that's exactly how I felt when I came here." I nodded fighting against the tears that threatened to come, and she continued, "But don't worry, everyone here wants you comfortable and I'm sure everyone will help you in any way they can!"

A small smile crept up on my lips as I replied, "Thank you." Then I felt my eyes tighten, and my sight became blurry as I gazed down at the hands trying to strangle themselves. I lifted myself up, and lowered my head so my hair could cover my face. Softer than I thought possible, I whispered, "You're reminding me of Ethan." she didn't respond, and I'm sure by the sound of my voice she could sense that I was ready to cry, "I never ever hit him, never felt threatened by him. We were supposed to be playing Man Hunt, and imagine my surprise when the whole reason he picked this game was so I could _actually _go berserk and hunt someone…"

I trail off and stared at her, a scowl settling on my face as she watched twin trails of burning acid slide down my cheeks "It's going to be fine Mercedes. Everything is going to get better. Soon you'll be able to control yourself and by then Ethan will be teasing you about everything that happened.." She reassured me.

I smiled and nodded my head, contemplating over whether or not I should continue and tell her about the incident, how _good_ it had felt to go after him. How angry I had felt when he didn't run, when he didn't panic as he should have. How I wanted my _best friend _to suffer. How I had decided her carcass would be a help to none. After a few minutes, I thought it'd be better not to, "Then. . ." I continued, "I woke up from Ethan's breath being all in my face and I was in a hospital bed, here. . .and attacked that man, uh Logan, and the Professor before they said I hadn't killed him, and he was on the road to recovery." I laughed through small sobs.

She gazed at me with a eyes that said she knew more to the story than I had told, and a small smile packed with sympathy on her face before she said, "Ethan can put down an elephant with his breath, he tested it one day at the zoo for a bet. " She laughed, hoping that would help my mood.

Surprisingly, it did, and I was distracted by my thoughts as I tried to picture Ethan knocking out an elephant with his breath alone. No tranquilizer needed. I began laughing with her, and could already feel a close friendship forming between us.

Subtly the happiness ceased, and I lifted my hands and gazed at them. I was tempted to tell her about how I went on a rampage in my, and even tranquilized I fought it. . .not even concerned with the fact that we knew each other and had a friendship much like the one I was forming with her. I sighed, and realized that it would make things awkward and hard to explain if I tried explaining such a thing to her.

Still, I kept my eyes on my hands and mumbled, "I haven't actively used my powers yet. . ." It was both a lie and the honest truth; I giggled as my heart beat picked up, "I cant make it happen on my own and I'm sure someone will make me -"

The redhead put her hand on my shoulder, effectively silencing my negative spiral, and spoke. "Mercedes. Look, you can't right now. Its not going to be easy and it will take time. But with Professor Xavier's help you will be able to control your _gift- _not your _curse_-"which made me pull away slightly because I had never actually voiced that I believed I was cursed. "See…Without the Professor's help I could do this." and I watched as she lifted her arm ands focused hard on my easel. I watched it steadily and imagine my shock when the portrait lifted itself and moved.

It floated toward me, did a three-sixty and a back-flip, then landed directly back on its perch. "It's not so bad. . .it gets easier as you progress." I looked up at her and she gave me another reassuring smile, "Everyone here will make it so you'll be fit enough for the humans without s reason for concern. I guarantee that."

I didn't know how respond, that was something she could learn to do on her own if she focused hard enough, maybe I could do the I actually could retort there, suddenly, in front of me is a boy. "Jean!" a masculine voice shouts. "Iz de new girl ready?"

I lunge forward, using the bed to as a catapult to launch myself faster at the unknown intruder, and go straight for his throat.


End file.
